


Pas De Deux

by marsroverVEVO



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ballet AU, Fluff and Angst, M/M, it'll be good? i promise?, viktor's the principal dancer, what's this? another dance au?, yuuri is new to the company
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-09 23:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11679423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsroverVEVO/pseuds/marsroverVEVO
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki has been invited to study with the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow, alongside his idol, Viktor Nikiforov. Yuuri brings a different type of dance to the table, but he's not sure he belongs.





	1. Here Goes Nothing

The subway sped through the city, blurring the skyscrapers and commuters alike. Yuuri stood in the crowded car, one arm wrapped around a pole, the other holding his bag to his chest. He swayed back and forth, his arm trying its best to keep him upright. He nudged his slipping glasses up with a shoulder. Today was audition day for the Bolshoi Ballet Academy, aka the best worst thing to ever happen to anyone in the ballet community. Located in Moscow, Russia, the company set the standard for ballet dancers across the globe. Only selecting the best of the best, auditions were tense and instructors were stricter than ever. He had received the invitation for the audition after a scout had seen his role as the lead in Romeo and Juliet. Previously, Yuuri was part of the NBA ballet in the Saitama prefecture of Japan, however, the moment the invitation arrived, all the teachers had nearly packed his bags for him. Though they were losing one of their strongest dancers, not a single member would have let him pass up such an opportunity.

The subway jerked to a stop and based on the map, Yuuri guessed it was his stop. He’d tried his best to learn Russian before he came, but it was even worse than English. Glancing at the time, he was grateful for how early he had left. Despite giving himself nearly an hour and a half of extra time, he had eaten away a decent chunk with his lack of Russian skills. He stopped by a large map, trying to make sense of it. There was a large red arrow, which was the universal sign for “you are here”, but the rest of it was a jumbled mess. He gnawed at the inside of his lip, feeling the anxiety bubble up in his stomach. He knelt down, unzipping the side pocket to retrieve his phone. He quickly stood back up, colliding with a figure that had appeared out of thin air. The phone in their hand flew out, clattering to the pavement alongside Yuuri’s. Panicked, Yuuri quickly scooped them up, apologizing profusely in his broken Russian. Looking up, he was met with a surprise- a warm smile and a pat on the back. The stranger who stood before him, however, was absolutely stunning. He had short silver hair that fell just above his strong jaw. Yuuri tried his best not to stare, but his attention was locked on to the strangers shocking blue eyes. Based off his demeanor and the bits Yuuri could pick out, the man wasn’t mad, which was good. But he still had no clue what he was going on about, which was bad. He bowed in apology, handing the phone back. Cool hands met his own and his heart nearly stopped. 

“Spasibo,” the stranger smiled. He knew that one, it meant thank you.

Yuuri simply nodded and took off. His heart was in his throat and threatening to jump. This kind of thing wasn’t exactly what he needed on the one day he actually needed to focus. Walking up the stairs, he kept replaying the collision in his head. It was like a bad movie, a foreigner runs into a handsome native and falls in love merely seconds after arrival. He would gag if he had the time. He plugged the address of the audition site into his phone and set off. Luckily, Yuuri had gotten off at the right stop and given himself plenty of time to walk the five minute distance from the station to the studio. Picking a slower pace, it gave him time to decompress and calm down his, well, everything. After some time, he was finally able to wrangle his thoughts back around to something more productive, like the audition. From across the street, he spotted a group of dancers from their tights and matching warm up gear. Despite the wide distance between the Saitama prefecture and Moscow, it always seemed that dancers always wore the same things. He breathed a sigh of relief, mentally agreeing to follow them from a distance to make sure he went to the right place. Trailing behind them, he clutched the strap to his back pack. He was close enough behind to duck into the door they went through. Immediately met with the smell of feet and IcyHot, he knew it was the right place. Yuuri pulled the letter of invitation from his bag, looking around for someone who could help. There was a table covered in pin on numbers, so he figured that he could start there. He fiddled with the corner of the paper, anxious as to how he would communicate anything at all. Finally, it was his turn to go.

“Hello-” he began in shaky English, hoping it would be a common language. The woman behind the desk took one look at him and held up a finger. She walked away without saying a word, leaving Yuuri dumbstruck and confused. He looked around, utterly flustered. Was it something he said? Did he do something that was majorly taboo in Russia? Before his confusion worsened, the woman returned, pulling another boy in tow. She sat back down, taking Yuuri’s letter right from his hand. “Politely” gawking, Yuuri looked between the two of them for any sort of answer.

“Hello, Mr. Katsuki. My name is Phichit, and I’m gonna be your translator!” the boy grinned, speaking in fluent Japanese.

Yuuri was severely startled, tentatively shaking the hand that was extended to him.

“I’ve been part of the Bolshoi junior company for a few years now, but I hope someday I can audition like you,” Phichit smiled, picking up some papers from the table.

“Uh, Phichit,” Yuuri began, flustered by the whirlwind of information being thrown at him, “First off, thank you, but I need to get ready for the audition. Where do I go?.

“Let me show you!” Phichit took his hand, leading him back to a changing room, “This is where you can put your things for now and the studio is just next door. I’ve already talked to the instructors and they’ll be demonstrating the routines so you can see whatever you don’t understand,”.

Yuuri slowly nodded, setting down his bag in a corner. He was trying hard not to draw any attention to himself, but nothing screamed “Look at me!” more than a loud conversation in Japanese in a Russian ballet school. He unzipped his jacket, tucking his shirt back into his tights. He unlaced his shoes, setting them aside.

“Here’s your number too. One for the front and one for the back of your shirt. I can help you pin it on,” he continued, already safety pinning the numbers to him before he could agree.

“You can go ahead and get ready to warm up in the room over there, I’ve just gotta go talk to the teachers real fast!” Phichit chirped, skipping out of the room.

Yuuri sat on the floor, slowly pulling his shoes from his bag. He had never expected to be greeted so warmly or so enthusiastically. Though the initial shock of being greeted thusly took off the edge of his nerves, the stares it brought were piling them back on. He adjusted his tights, making sure that his shirt was tucked in as neatly as possible. Yuuri tried his best to tune out the curious whispers that came from every other dancer in the room. He took a deep breath. Standing up, he made his way into the audition room next door. Yuuri slightly bowed towards the pianist with a small smile. He found a place at the barre and began to work some blood back into his feet. Rolling his ankles, his grip on the barre was white knuckles. Everyone seemed to set up around him but not near him, giving him too much space to go unnoticed. He fidgeted with his hair, tucking it behind his ear repeatedly as the short strand poked back out. Phichit stood by him, sitting down to rub out his feet.

“Alright so it’ll start with regular barre stuff, then petite allegro, then across the floors. Regular dance stuff, but if you make it through that you’ve gotta do your solo,”.

Yuuri nodded, swinging his leg back and forth, “The letter I got said it was a solo of choice in soft soles, modern or ballet, right?”.

Phichit nodded, “Yep, most people do ballet but modern auditions do happen sometimes,”.

The way he said that made Yuuri doubt everything he had practiced. Though he loved ballet, he felt most comfortable with his self-choreographed modern pieces. His high nerves reached a new peak as he realized that his modern solo may be what breaks his audition if he makes it that far. He chewed at his lip, trying to focus on his warm up.

“Are you alright?” Phichit ducked his head, trying to look at Yuuri.

“Yeah, I just wish that I’d prepared a ballet solo rather than writing my own,” he darkly chuckled, staring off into space.

Phichit nodded solemnly, “I get that, but it’s okay. Most modern auditions go well and stick out from the other ones,”.

“Great,” Yuuri sighed.

The studio door burst open and a familiar stranger made a grand entrance. Yuuri looked up to see the man from the subway and he was confused. He could recognize the shocking silver hair from anywhere. He knew all of the principal dancers from Bolshoi, but not this man. This man was from the subway- not a prestigious ballet company.

“That’s Mr. Nikiforov,” Phichit stretched an arm across his chest, “I guess he’s back to teaching after his stint in San Francisco,”.

Yuuri’s heart stopped cold in his chest. In front of him stood his idol, whom he didn’t even recognize. His hair was all gone and he looked considerably older than Yuuri remembered. Well, it wasn’t older like middle aged… He looked more mature, more grown up than before. His palms grew clammy at his side as he watched his teacher get set up with the pianist. How did he not see this coming? Going to study at the same academy as his personal hero? Flawless logic, Katsuki. Now he’s not only going to watch you fail epicly, but he’s going to be the one that crushes your dreams and sends you home. He fell the lump in his throat grow.

“Good morning everyone, and thank you for attending today’s audition!” Viktor beamed, tugging on his ballet shoes, “First we shall begin with a barre warm up, and after we make some adjustments to the attendance, some floor work,”.

“He’s putting the fact he’s cutting people nicely,” Phichit hummed, helping Yuuri with the translation.

“I’ll walk around and make some critiques so make sure that you are putting your best foot forward, no pun intended,” he chuckled, joining a barre up front. He demonstrated the routine briefly before signalling for the music to start. Yuuri went along with the music, focusing on keeping his posture and turnout in check. He stared ahead, trying to ignore every instinct that told him to leave. Viktor made his way around the room critiquing each dancer with a nudge or prod from his foot. He neared closer and closer, sending Yuuri’s nerves over the edge. He missed the transition to the other foot, fumbling to get back in time and silently cursing himself for his clumsiness. Viktor lit up the moment he recognized Yuuri.

“And to think that the man I ran into was actually the famous Yuuri Katsuki,” he smiled, nudging Yuuri’s chin up higher, fixing his posture, “Make sure to keep your chin up and chest out, don’t be shy,”.

A chill ran down Yuuri’s spine at the statement. Not only was Viktor his teacher, but he knew who he was. Yuuri screamed internally, every fiber of his being telling him to leave right then and there. He was going to ruin his only chance at making an impression on his idol. After the warmup was finished, the barres were taken away and the group was asked to stand in a straight line, stepping forward when their number was called forward. Yuuri’s number was called and he stepped forward, his heart sinking. This was it.

“If your number was not called, we thank you for attending and wish you have a better luck next year. You may pick up any additional information about the summer programs at the door,” Viktor kindly smiled. He had let half of the class go so kindly that most of them didn’t quite even realize that they had just been cut. Even more confusing was the fact that Yuuri had made it through the first round of qualifications. He looked around the room in confusion. Phichit gave him a thumbs up from the piano. He had made it to the next level so it was time to ramp up the effort. Viktor taught a small combination and sent the dancers across the floor. He called out various comments to the dancers, often startling Yuuri with the harsher criticisms of the group.

“Why does Viktor hate me,” Yuuri mumbled under his breath, waiting his turn to do the combination. The recognition from Viktor was proving to be a curse rather than any sort of blessing. For every compliment given to a student, he criticised Yuuri. Turnout, posture, extension, precision- everything seemed to be wrong to Viktor. Sweaty and out of breath, Yuuri was once again lined up across the front of the room. If he wasn’t cut last time, he sure as hell was being cut now. There was no way he would be kept since he was critiqued so harshly. He stepped forward with five other candidates.

“Thank you all for coming out today. The remaining six of you will be allowed a brief water break to retrieve your prepared music and take a moment to breathe,” Viktor gestured to the door, taking a swig from his water bottle. Yuuri followed the crowd to the changing room, dreading what would come next. Sure he was still surprised by his success, but Yuuri had no time to be confused, fear was already replacing any room left for confusion. He had to get up and perform his contemporary solo to the one person he admired (and still admires) most.

When Yuuri was five, his mother took him to a performance of the Nutcracker ballet. He spent the days up until the performance wrapped up in excitement. He had learned all about ballet and what it was like to be a dancer down to a T. Pouring over book after book, he wanted to know everything about them. Eventually, the day of the show came. He got all dressed up to go to the theater and could barely sit still the whole time. At intermission, he even got an autograph from Fritz, the devilish little brother. After the show was over, Yuuri cried and cried because he never wanted it to end. Soon after, he was enrolled into ballet classes at the local rec center and he took off, never once showing signs of slowing or stopping. He found out that the Fritz who gave him the autograph was a dancer named Viktor Nikiforov. He was from Russia and was only a few years older than him. His hair was long at the time (apparently not any more) so Yuuri tried his hardest to grow his out. He wanted to be just like Viktor. He wanted to be Fritz.

And now he stood in front of Fritz. No. In front of Viktor. Clutching a CD to his chest, waiting his turn to make his first impression upon the man who would either send him home, or change his entire life for the foreseeable future. He was the last soloist to perform. His was the only modern audition, the rest of the company showcasing flawless variations from imfamous ballets such as Don Quixote and La Fille Mal Gardee. Naturally, Yuuri was beyond nervous. Viktor placed a hand on his shoulder, reaching for the case in his tight grip. 

“May I?” he gently asked.

Yuuri looked from the CD up at him, quickly nodding and handing it over. He took his glasses off, handing them to Phichit who wished him luck. He took to the center of the floor, covering his nerves up with a strong facade. Without his glasses, he couldn’t see anyone’s judgement and he had no one to worry about but himself. Suddenly, a wave of calm overtook him. The blurred room was much more comfortable than before. He could do this, he decided. Then the music began and Yuuri was ready.


	2. Coworkers to Friends to Lovers, I Guess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is accepted into the company- yay! But now he has to figure out how to move his whole life to Russia and work with his idol every day- yay?

Yuuri stood in line, once again waiting for the verdict. Sweat rolled down his brow, still recovering from his solo. Like every other performance, he could not recall a single detail from it. But he had not failed so epically that the embarrassment was ingrained in his memories forever. He figured it went fine, probably not well enough to make him worth keeping around. He stared at his feet, already thinking through when he could catch the next flight home and if he could get back into his old company. A series of numbers were called out and asked to step forward, this time, Yuuri’s wasn’t. A sad smile crossed his face. He was part of a group of three that were left out. It’s a good thing he didn’t unpack at the hotel.

“After much deliberation and a long day of dance, I would like welcome Mr. Katsuki, Mr. Giacometti, and Mr. Altin into our company for the upcoming winter season,” Viktor grinned, clapping for the three of them. Phichit ran over to Yuuri, wrapping him in a hug, beaming brighter than the sun. Yuuri was still stunned, staring at the other new members and Viktor in confusion.

“I’m so glad you get to stay!” Phichit cried out, “You’re soooo good!”.

Yuuri slightly laughed, returning the hug, “Thank you, Phichit,”.

His mind was already racing, wondering what came next. He had actually done it. He had made it. Out of the thirty some odd dancers, he had made it. He was worth keeping, somehow. Viktor congratulated each of them with a firm handshake and a warm smile.

“You will be assigned dorms within the next couple days and given an orientation of sorts. You’ll have to fill out some basic paperwork as far as your employment goes, but we look forward to working with you,” Viktor grinned, excusing them for the day.

“Can you help me with the paperwork bit?” Yuuri asked sheepishly, slipping his glasses back on.

“Of course!” Phichit agreed, “Only bummer about this is that we can’t room since we’re in different programs,”. He leaned in the doorway as Yuuri tugged off his shirt and ballet shoes. He fanned himself with a hand, still sweaty from the audition. The clock on the wall read 4:45. Too late for lunch, too early for dinner, he’d just have to order room service back at the hotel. But more importantly, how did he get into one of the most prestigious companies there are? It’s like applying to go to Mars because you liked space and getting in. It all had seemed so far off, yet here he was.

“Yuuuuriiiii,” Phichit waved a hand in front of his face.

Yuuri snapped out of his trance, “Huh?”.

“I was wondering if you still needed my help with translating, but are you okay?”.

Yuuri smiled, nodding, “Oh yeah, just a little hungry. But I’ll be okay for now, I can make my way home,”.

“Do you want my phone number if you need any help?”.

“That would be wonderful,”.

Phichit plucked Yuuri’s phone from his bag, plugging in his number. Man this kid didn’t have boundaries, Yuuri mused, tugging on an old hoodie. He slipped on a pair of shorts and his street shoes. Phichit handed Yuuri’s phone back, waving goodbye to go to another studio for class. Yuuri was thankful that they had found someone to at least get him through the growing pains of this whole thing. He shouldered his bag, pulling out his subway map. Yuuri almost made it to the door before he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, startled to see the man of the hour, Viktor Nikiforov. Yuuri shyly bowed, mumbling a polite hello.

“Yuuri,” Viktor began in English (thank god), “I’m very happy you will be working with me,”.

Yuuri blushed a vibrant red. Viktor was excited to work with him? He knew who he was?

“T-thank you, Mr. Nikiforov,” he stuttered.

“Please, my name is Viktor,” he smirked, pressing a card into Yuuri’s palm, “but you can call me any time,”.

He sauntered away, waving over his shoulder at Yuuri who stood open mouthed. He made his way to the subway station wide eyed and still blushing like a fool. He sat down on a bench, holding onto a pole as he replayed everything that had just occurred. He gripped the small business card in his hand, not daring to accept that Viktor may or may not have just flirted with him and or just given his number. He put in headphones, trying not to hyperventilate about the whole situation. Walking back to his hotel, he was on cloud nine, imagining dancing alongside Viktor and spending time with him. Yuuri had so many questions to ask him, so many things he wanted to talk about. He couldn’t stop his smile from stretching from ear to ear as he practically skipped down the sidewalk. Taking the elevator back up to his room, he made sure he was totally alone before crying out in excitement. He was babbling aloud about how they were gonna fall in love and he would make breakfast for Viktor and they could stand at the seashore and watch the sunrise. Yuuri hugged his bag to his chest, giggling like a little kid. He chewed at his thumb nail, still beaming. 

The second he got to his hotel room, he ordered room service, pulled up his computer, opened Skype, and called his family back home. He tugged off his shoes, settling back against the pillows as the application rang. It was picked up almost immediately, the sounds of voices arguing filling the room as the camera was jolted back and forth.

“Hi Yuuri, one second- no mom knock it off- you’ve gotta hold it back farther. You’ve gotta see your face in the little corner-” Mari seemed to manhandle the laptop away from their parents, getting them settled on the couch before joining them.

“How did it go, Yuuri? Did you blow them away?” his mom beamed, bouncing in excitement.

“Well…” Yuuri began quietly, “I don’t know how or why, but I’m in. I made it,”.

The speakers nearly blew out on his computer as the other side erupted in celebration.

“That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!” Yuuri’s dad shouted, hugging an arm around Mari’s shoulders. Yuuri blushed furiously, pushing his glasses up his nose. He was overwhelmed by the deluge of praise that flew out of the speakers. 

“My baby’s moving to Russia,” his mom practically wept, contradicting her otherwise ecstatic emotions, “You’ve got to visit lots and call us every night!”.

Even Mari cringed at the clinginess of that one, “Mom…”.

“Well maybe not every night, just lots, okay?” she wiped her eyes, allowing herself to be consumed into her husband’s embrace.

“Tell Viktor I say hi if you see him,” Mari joked.

“He’s actually the one that ran my audition,” Yuuri chuckled, “Guess he knew who I was too,”.

Mari screeched, nearly chucking the laptop across the room, “He did?!”.

Yuuri beamed, “Yeah, he was really nice, and he gave me his number in case I needed help with the paperwork,”.

Mari picked up the laptop, getting away from their nosy parents. They didn’t need to hear all the details about how gorgeous Viktor was. She slid her bedroom door shut, curling up in bed.

“What was he like?”.

“Well… I kinda ran into him on the train and didn’t recognize him,”.

Mari gave Yuuri the strangest look, “What do you mean you didn’t recognize the one man you’ve loved since you were born,”.

Yuuri blushed, “For the record, I was like nine, and now he’s cut off all of his hair. No more ponytail,”.

Mari’s jaw dropped, “He did not,”.

Yuuri solemnly nodded, “He did. Anyways, I literally ran into him, but he was chill about that. Then I got ready for the audition, and in he saunters at the very last minute. He was really nasty to me though, like not outwardly mean, but he was laudatory to everyone but me,”.

“Why was he so nice before the audition, but not during?” Mari wondered aloud.

“Well sometimes it’s good to get critiques because it shows that the teacher is watching you over others, but he was just so nitpicky. It was like he was looking for the things I was doing wrong, rather than trying to see what I did well, slash, could bring to the company. But then he has the nerve to tell me that he looks forward to working with me? It makes no sense whatsoever,” he sighed, resting his cheek on his hand.

“Maybe he liiiiikesssss youuuuuuu,” Mari sang, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Mari, I swear to god, when you say stuff like that, I feel like my eyes are gonna get stuck in the back of my head they roll so far back,”.

Mari simply shrugged, the smirk obviously unmoved by his snide remark, “All I gotta get out of this is a wedding invitation, I hope you know,”.

Yuuri made a dumb face, raising his voice to mock his sister, “Hi, I’m Mari Katsuki and I think my brother stands a chance with one of the best ballet dancers on the globe,”.

Mari narrowed her eyes, “If you weren’t so far away, I’d throttle you right about now,”.

He stuck out his tongue, pushing his nose up like a pig with his index finger, “Come and get me,”.

___

The next morning, Yuuri woke up to an exuberant voicemail from Phichit. He apparently had to work on the extensive paperwork with him, regarding work visas and employment. Truly riveting stuff. He made his way to the dorms, picking up some hot chocolate from a nearby coffee shop. He hummed to himself, reveling in the warmth of the drinks. Even though it was late September, the temperatures seemed to already be reaching wintery levels. The sunny days were nice, but the wind always seemed to blow right through him. He rang the buzzer to the apartments, and in seconds, Phichit was at the door, a backpack full of papers slung over his shoulders.

“Good morning Yuuri!” Phichit chirped, closing the door behind him.

“Morning, Phichit,” Yuuri slightly smiled, “Aren’t we doing paperwork upstairs?”.

Phichit shook his head, leading Yuuri down the sidewalk, “Nah, there’s not enough room so we’re going to the studio. There’s some tables in the lobby we can use,”.

“You could’ve just told me to meet you there,” Yuuri chuckled, handing him a cup.

“Yeah, but now you know where the dorms are for when you move in. Plus, I figured you’d be the type to get drinks if you thought you were meeting someone in their home,”.

“You little sneak,” Yuuri shook his head, “You know me all too well and you’ve only known me a day,”.

“Well, I’ve known about you longer if I’m being totally honest…” Phichit admitted.

“You have?”.

“Well yeah, I saw you in competition a long time ago. I must’ve been around eight so it was almost ten years ago, you did a solo piece called ‘This Place Was a Shelter’ and you won the whole thing with it. Since then, I’ve looked for you at every competition I go to and follow you on almost all social media. I looked up to you a lot,” he grinned, “But now I’m in charge of helping you have a great time here, am I doin’ okay?”.

Yuuri blushed, “You’re doing a great job, Phichit,”.

Sitting down in the front of the studio, Phichit laid out all the paperwork in clean stacks, sorting them by priority and importance. Yuuri began working his way through the visa forms, placing a request to work alongside the verbose permits. The second step were all the contracts he had to sign to join the company. Hundreds of disclaimers and waivers signed his life away, placing him under the care of the company, which is exactly as ominous as it sounds. Minutes began to fly by, but the two of them felt like they were hardly making any progress. Phichit worked him through dorm papers slowly, these had to be some of the more confusing papers. Both of them expected the other to have the answer to questions like, ‘How long will you be staying’ or ‘Do you intend on moving elsewhere in the coming months’. This all goes without mentioning the list of rules that seemed go on for ages, and that was excluding all of the regulations and informational pamphlets.

“Phichit, I don’t think either of us are cut out for this,” Yuuri weakly laughed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. The amount of ink on his hands was hardly comparable to how many signatures he’d scrawled along the various dotted lines, “Are we close to being done?”.

Phichit groaned, pulling his hood over his head and pulling the drawstrings shut, “I’m calling it quits forever. I never ever want to see another subsection on plumbing ever again,” he stood up from the table, peeking out from the cinched hole of his hoodie, “Let’s go watch a class to get our minds off of this gross stuff,”.

Yuuri laughed, sticking the papers into his backpack, “I think that’s a good plan,”. He followed Phichit up a few flights of stairs, listening to the sound of a piano growing. Slightly winded, Yuuri finally met Phichit, who stood in a doorway, peeking in. He sipped his now-cold chocolate and beckoned Yuuri closer. He pointed in at the class that was taking place. About a dozen six year olds in pink tutus stood in the middle of the floor, practicing their curtsies. They awkwardly leaned forward, their heads sticking up like a turtle’s in water. 

“Keep your heads down, girls,” the teacher called, stepping into their view from the doorway, “You won’t fall, I promise,”.

Yuuri’s blood ran cold, it was Viktor.

“Phichit, we should go before we disrupt the class,” Yuuri whispered, tugging on Phichit’s elbow, but it was too late. The kids had stopped what they were doing, curious as to who the strangers in the hall were. But that wasn’t all, Viktor had turned around to see too.

“Yuuri! Phichit!” he clapped his hands together, beaming at them, “What a wonderful surprise! Why don’t the two of you come on in?”. The invitation was clearly not optional since he already had his arms around their shoulders and was walking them right to the front. Yuuri’s heart nearly beat out of his chest.

“Now you guys, I bet you all know Phichit,” Phichit grinned as the class nodded, “But I bet you don’t know this guy,” he shot a thumb in Yuuri’s direction. They all shook their heads.

“Well, it’s my pleasure to introduce to you all, Mr. Yuuri Katsuki. He’s a new dancer and he comes all the way from Japan! He’s in my company so you all better treat him with the same respect as me,” he teased. 

The kids were abuzz with excitement. It wasn’t every day that they got to meet one of Viktor’s friends. Much less someone that had come all the way from Japan. Yuuri said a small hello, bowing to the group. The girls all giggled, curtsying back. 

“Would the two of you like to stay and watch? We’re working on our pas de chats and glissades today,”.

**Author's Note:**

> This is real self indulgent again, but I really adore dance aus,,, Please leave comments to let me know what you think!  
> Yuuri's dance solo is inspired by Myles Erlick's (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acdAByEsydU)  
> His old competition solo is inspired by Francesco Bax's (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8n9Gt_b8ARM).


End file.
